'I thought thee'd never be coming,' said Black Thompson impatiently.
'Lad, hast thee forgotten thy rights and thy wrongs, that thou comes to
yonder wretched kennel whistling as if all the land belonged to thee?
Where's thy promise to thy father, that thee'd never give up thy rights?
Jackson the butcher has taken Fern's Hollow, and it's to be finished up
in a week or two; and thee'lt see thy own place go into the hands of
strangers.'
'It'll all be put right some day, Thompson, thank you,' said Stephen.
'Right!' repeated Thompson; 'who's to put wrong things right if we won't
take the trouble ourselves? Is it right for the master to grind us down
in our wages, and raise the rents over our heads, till we can scarcely
get enough to keep us in victuals, just that he may add money to money
to count over of nights? Was it right of him to leave the pit yonder
open, till little Nan was killed in it? Thee has a heavy reckoning to
settle with him, and I'd be wiping off some of the score. If I was in
thy place, I should have little Nan's voice calling me day and night
from the pit, to ask when I was going to revenge her.
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152